Page 52 of Grumpy Billionaire Bad Boy

"I have just the thing." She points toward the back of the shop. "If you'll just follow me."

We do, his hand on my back as I focus on not stumbling over my own feet. This cast is not easy to walk in, especially with the lopsided height difference with my shoes.

"What happened, by the way?" Drew whispers on our way over. "I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"I'm clumsy," I lie. "Silly little accident."

"Are you okay?" he asks, genuine concern lining his question.

"Oh, I'm fine. Nothing to worry about. I should have these off in a couple of weeks." I hold out my arm and remember I still need to find a doctor around here who will see me and not drill me about information. How much do doctor visits cost?

"When dinner goes well, we'll have to plan something for when they're off. Maybe we can go dancing."

I tilt my head toward him. "Counting on it going well, are we?"

"A guy can hope, right?"

"What about this?" The clerk interrupts us to show off a pale-yellow long dress.

At first glance, it's pretty, but she and I both know damn well that redheads don't look good in pale colors. This bitch is trying to sabotage my outfit and still get a commission.

"Beautiful," Drew says, nothing wrong with his remark.

"How about something with a richer color?" I suggest, my tone neutral even though I'm considering strangling her with the straps of the yellow dress.

"We have this pink one over here." She strolls over to another soft palette dress, and I imagine fashioning the hanger into a point and stabbing her in the eye with it.

"Do you know anything about fashion?" I ask her.

"Excuse me?" she snaps back.

I want to explain to her that the colors she's picking out will do nothing but wash me out in the most unflattering way, to educate her on deeper colors, like dark green or browns. Hell, even a bubblegum pink would be better than the one she's trying to convince me of.

"How about this one?" I break off from Drew and trace my fingers along the delicate fabric of a dark purple dress, so dark it almost looks black. In the right light, it's a stunning shade of aubergine.

"Try it on," Drew encourages.

"Let me get that for you." The clerk cuts in front of me, snatching the hanger off the rack and turning toward the fitting rooms. "If you'll follow me."

Drew settles into a cozy chair in the back and waits patiently as I slip into one of the fitting rooms and start taking my clothes off. I suppress a curse when my top gets stuck on my cast and try not to get frustrated when it happens to my jeans, too.

The dress manages to cover my leg well, concealing it so you can't even tell I'm hiding anything underneath. My wrist is another thing, but unless I opt for a long-sleeved thing, I'm screwed. I'll have to make do with what I can.

The tag catches my eye and I reach for it, suppressing a gasp at the twelve-hundred-dollar price. I can't expect this stranger to spend that much money, can I? I mean, Archer bought me twodesigner bags, a pair of shoes, and a cell phone and we'd only known each other a week. Surely I could be okay with a dress.

I step out of the room and walk toward Drew, his eyes lighting up and sparkling bright.

"Wow," is all he says.

I do a spin, careful not to fall and hurt myself any more. "It might be a bit much," I tell him, not quite mentioning the hefty price tag.

"It's perfect…you're perfect." Drew stands, getting the attention of the clerk who's gossiping with another coworker. "We'll take this one, please." He slides her a silver credit card.

"You don't have to," I protest, despite very much wanting this dress. It's gorgeous, and I haven't felt this pretty sincebefore.

"I insist." He swivels his finger in the air. "Do you want shoes? Accessories? Anything else?"

"No, I have shoes that would go great with this." The ones I picked up from Charlotte’s.

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